


fit to lead

by arcanamagnus



Category: Transformers: Victory
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Of sorts?, Psychosomatic Symptoms, Touchy-Feely, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcanamagnus/pseuds/arcanamagnus
Summary: Leozack gets promoted to a senior rank. Anxious insecurity and its physical effects make it more bad than good. Hellbat helps, best as he can.Written for Rare TF Pair Week Day 3: Feel
Relationships: Hellbat & Leozack
Kudos: 2
Collections: Rare TF Pair Week 2020





	fit to lead

**Author's Note:**

> In continuity with the previous two fics, "lost and found" and "remade in the image", and the last of the platonic LeoBat fics I have ready for this event. I might explore these early days and their parallels and contrasts to the present further in other fics though, because there's lots of potential there.

If there was one thing that could succinctly describe Leozack’s life, besides pain, it was being belittled. His guardians had belittled him as a hatchling because he was “small” (for them) and then because he was  _ defective _ , medics had belittled him for wanting something done regarding his unstable spark and misshapen organs, but since he was transferred to working with other jets, since he got his body reformatted and got put on 5 whole medications and uncountable code patches, he was starting to get used to  _ praise _ , to being commended for his strength and speed and cunning, and it bewildered him. Being appreciated was  _ different _ .

Of course, being a rising star meant that he had a lot of stragglers riding on his slipstream and using his superior strength and size to their advantage, but he tried not to let it get to his head too much. Especially because it mostly just meant mechs throwing the hardest part of each assigned task at him because “he could handle it”. What would they do when he eventually couldn’t? When he had a pain flare so severe that the firewalls he had installed couldn’t keep it at bay? These were the types of thoughts that haunted him, but he was getting better at ignoring them as he aged.

He’d been a flight cadet for about a hundred vorns before his trine was all promoted to pilot officers, a hundred more before their promotion to flying officers and then fifty before all becoming flight lieutenants, and that would ordinarily been as far as a jet fighter would advance in rank within the Decepticon army, being standard promotions based on time of service, but it did not stop there, not for Leozack.

Earlier that morning, Leozack had received another direct, personal summons from General Deathsaurus, the first since the fateful orn he and his sister had been reassigned and given permission to alter their bodies accordingly, and he’d been just as panicked as the first time. The fear of redundancy, of outliving his usefulness, had never left his spark or processor, but his newfound (was it even new if nearly three centuries had passed?) increase in self-worth reminded him that last time he’d been summoned he’d been given a  _ reward _ , so he grit his teeth and went to face the General with his wings held as high as they would go.

The promotion to Squadron Leader, to a  _ senior rank _ , should maybe have been expected. He  _ did _ front his trine in their flight formations, mostly due to his slightly larger size and strong personality, but actually being acknowledged by the chain of command because he was leading material? It had never really crossed his mind, or rather never not in jest, in the cynical bitterness of  _ things wouldn't be like this if  _ I  _ was in charge _ .

But this was real now. Deathsaurus himself condecorated him, had him fitted for a  _ permanent  _ badge carved out of the incandescent metal of his spark casing, and his induction as a senior officer, his rite of branding, was scheduled for the following orn.

Unfortunately, the mix of all these strong emotions and the meddling done to his unstable internals had him too sick to complete his remaining duties that day. Straight from the throne room, he beelined for the closest waste disposal unit and hacked up most of his fuel tank's content, coughing half-processed energon out of his auxiliary ventilation systems for quite the while after. He wasn't in a condition to make it back to his room, and he wasn't entirely sure if this restriction was physical or emotional.

Leozack dragged himself to a respectable position inside a decontamination stall — turned off, thankfully —, and made a desperate call.

"Leozack?" Hellbat's voice came over his comms, mildly curious, "Commodore said you had an urgent summons to attend to. Did it go alright?"

"..." His voice wouldn't come out, not even over just transmission, so Leozack focused on calming his vents, making only a staticky electronic hum as his answer.

"Okay, that doesn't sound very alright." Hellbat had always had a penchant for stating the obvious, and at that Leozack managed another small, vaguely annoyed, hum. "Where are you? I don't have another task until a joor or so. Actually, you don't need to tell me, don't strain yourself. I'll just trace the call."

Leozack hummed in assent, and kept the commline open while Hellbat made his way to the palace, muttering nonsense to himself as he navigated the halls. It must have taken some three breems for Hellbat to get to the decon unit, turning his head this way and that until Leozack managed a sickly groan to call his attention.

"Oh, you look awful," again,  _ obvious _ , "There's, uh, stuff on your face, lemme…"

Hellbat kneeled in front of Leozack's curled up frame, a little clumsy, thighs visibly shaking from poor hydraulic pressure, and ran a careful thumb over what Leozack now recognised as a wet trail running down from the corner of his mouth.  _ Gross. _

"Hey, that was almost a word! Do you wanna get out of here? Like, this can't be a very nice place to have a meltdown in."

"Not a meltdown." Leozack managed, heavy with static. He tried to continue, explain his situation, explain that nothing  _ bad _ happened and that he was just being an ungrateful glitch about it because he just couldn't accept he was worth his new rank, but all that came out was a pained hiss.

“Alright, alright, not a meltdown.” Hellbat placated, waving his hands. “Does, uh, anything hurt? I know that’s kind of a moot question for you, but anything in particular?”

"Head." He answered, stilted, and tightened the hand he had close to his chest. "Tanks."

Hellbat tightened his optics, probably biting his lip in a sympathetic wince behind the mask.

"I don't have anything on me to help with that, but I can stay here with you and call that nice kitty medic you like to bring a fuel neutraliser and a pain patch if you want?"

Leozack nodded, head hanging low. He shuffled a bit closer to the corner of the stall, giving Hellbat room to sit down next to him. It wasn't even a tight fit, what with the palace rooms being scaled for very large mechs like Deathsaurus and Esmeral, but Hellbat's plating was almost flush to his own as he tried to find a position that didn't flatten his wing kibble.

Settled, Hellbat leaned his body against his shoulder. It was a solid, warm presence by itself, but Hellbat also decided to entangle their hands, fiddling with Leozack's fingers in that nice relaxing way he loved.

It was nice. Hellbat's fingers were thin and dexterous and he moved them quick, feeling every groove and bump and bending Leozack's thicker fingers this way and that in a pattern only he understood. Leozack closed his optics and focused on just feeling the anchor Hellbat was giving him.

It was silent at first, eerily so, but it was easy to understand by the keen hum that made his ears twitch that Hellbat was on internal comms, probably getting Jallguar, as he'd promised. The call was longer than Leozack would have made it, and he could feel the minute changes in Hellbat's posture as he (probably) flourished his every word in the most intentionally annoying way possible. It was honestly the funniest thing that between the two of them it was the bat and not the lion who was catty — Leozack knew his personality was no crystal candy either, but he fancied himself more of a straight up bitch, like the houndmech who (hands off) raised him —, and at this Leozack managed a hoarse chuckle, thinking about how that absolute saint of a jaguar must be taking this.

"Meds accounted for." Hellbat announced, squeezing his hand. "Kittycat should reach us in 10, when she's on break."

"Fuckin' fantastic." It wasn't even sarcastic.

"Okay, how verbal are you right now? Like, one to ten. 'Cause I still wanna know what was it that the General said to you that had you spill your guts in the palace decon."

Leozack hummed in displeasure, still embarrassed by this whole situation, but decided that a word or two wouldn't hurt.

"Promotion."

It took a second for it to register, Hellbat's earfins flagging in a funny way, as if blindsided.

"For you?"

Leozack nodded.

"Squadron Leader."

Hellbat's optics lit up, wide and pretty.

"That's very nice!" But then doubt struck him, remembering Leozack's state. "Unless it isn't?"

Leozack shrugged, a little unsure, and brought Hellbat's hand, still intertwined with his, to lay upon his chest.

"Oh."

_ Yeah.  _ Oh.

"Does it hurt as much as they say?"

"Worse."

And then Hellbat had to stick his foot in his mouth.

"But worse for real or worse because it's you?"

Again, neither of them were exactly pleasant people, and Hellbat had said much worse to other people on purpose, so it wasn't exactly  _ hurtful _ , but it was insensitive all the same. Hellbat seemed to realise it, with the way he stiffened after.

"That wasn't a very nice way to put it, but, uh, you think  _ this _ ," he motioned to the situation at hand, "happens to everyone or is it something specific to your… stuff?"

"Dunno. The throwing up is probably on me though."  _ Wow, a complete sentence. _ It still sounded like his vocaliser had been through the wringer, but more words was good.

"Yeah, you… do that a lot." He didn't need to see Hellbat's face to know that he was scrunching his nose up, knowing damn well how squeamish the guy was. He was reliable still, as long as Leozack either managed to keep it down or made sure to empty his tanks where Hellbat didn't have to see or hear it. He'd help him clean up after with no issue, but the act itself was just too much.

But yes, it was a recurring problem, usually from stress or particularly bad pain, and Leozack couldn't even begin to imagine how horrible it would be to have it happen in jet mode or, worse, in battle. And that brought him back to his initial thoughts at his new rank. Was such a defective bot really the best choice for this rank, regardless of how much harder he could punch than anyone else his size class? It pressed twice as hard now that he was coherent enough to really think about it, to think about all the ways he could fail his subordinates and his superiors just by existing.

Hellbat's hand was on his face again, pulling his head up from where he had started to withdraw into himself. He had retracted his mask, and now his thinking pout was fully visible as he looked at Leozack's own pursed lips.

Leozack followed him with both pairs of optics as he stretched up and placed a little peck on the tip of his helmet's snout.

"You think too much. I think you'll make a fine leader."

Leozack was still frozen, trying to process.

"I mean, Guyhawk only looks out for themself and I'm me, so you're definitely the best option for heading us. You actually  _ care _ ."

"I'm a good leader?" Leozack asked, voice squeaky like it was badly calibrated.

"You are! I trust you,  _ Leader _ ." The tone was teasing, friendly, but it had Leozack's cheeks burning and the new hole in his spark casing smarting. It did not escape Hellbat's notice, with how close they were. "You like it when I call you 'Leader'?"

"I could get used to it." He teased back, a smile finally blooming on his lips. "Thanks."

"Anytime,  _ Leader." _

That was enough to make him laugh, but the extended vocalisation reminded him that his head still hurt.

"When's Jallguar-"

"Up here." They looked up to see the jaguarbot herself, standing by the door, a smirk on her face. "You looked like you were having an important conversation, didn't wanna interrupt, Squad Leader Leozack."

"Hmm, not quite the same effect." 

Hellbat snickered.

Using Hellbat's shoulder pylon for leverage, Leozack made it onto unsteady feet and made his way to Jallguar, who handed him a little zip bag with "Branding Special" inscribed on it.

"'S got the stuff you asked for plus some other things you might need this next couple orns."

So maybe feeling awful after half a senior induction wasn't just him overreacting or a sign of weakness. That brought him some comfort.

"Thanks, Jallguar."

"Just my job. And  _ you. _ " She then looked over his shoulder to where Hellbat was stretching after so long sitting down. "Blackwidow is looking for you. You have a shift together sorting storage in five."

Hellbat pouted again, mouth still uncovered, but quickly broke into a mischievous sharp-toothed smile.

"Tell her I am assisting my superior officer. You think  _ this _ can make it back to the hangars without collapsing somewhere?"

"If you get killed, you get killed." Jallguar shrugged, then bid them goodbye, leaving them to gather themselves before leaving as well.

Leozack ferreted the pain patch from the little bag and plugged it on the slot under his wrist, the program easily shutting down his pain subroutines.

"Superior officer, huh? I really can get used to that."

And maybe he could, he really, really could.

**Author's Note:**

> And here is the origin of Hellbat calling Leozack by whatever authority title rather than his name, unlike literally everyone else. I'm sure it grew more ironic by then though.
> 
> This memory would be a source of complicated feelings for them both in the future, after they become disillusioned with each other's work like we see in Victory.


End file.
